The mirror reflected your latest outfit—a daring ensemble that revealed little to the imagination. You smoothed the fabric before stepping out of the dressing area.

Satoru lounged on the couch. At the sound of your footsteps he glanced up and froze, his phone forgotten as his eyes locked on you.

You spun slowly, letting the light catch every angle. You tilt your head despite the way his gaze lingered. His mouth opened then closed, his sharp tongue failing. “Uh…” He blinked, dragging his focus up to your face. “It’s something.”

“It works,” he adds, his voice low. When you glanced at him you realized his eyes weren’t on the outfit--they were tracing the lines of your exposed skin, drinking in every detail. “But maybe not in the way you want it to.”

You instead tease him for his lack of focus as to not show your flustered state.

“I am focused,” he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His smirk widened, teasing but laced with something darker. “Just not on the outfit.”

Your stomach flipped but you huffed and turned toward the dressing area. You could feel his gaze lingering even as you disappeared behind the curtain. You sifted through the remaining options, finally settling on something even more daring. This one wasn’t just bold--it was borderline scandalous.

You stepped out again, your heart pounding as Satoru’s eyes snapped to you. The usual confidence in his expression was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and his hand went to his hair in a clear tell of his flustered state.

He let out a low whistle, leaning back into the couch with a hand resting over his mouth as if to keep himself in check. You shifted under his gaze, the way his eyes roamed over you making you feel more exposed than the outfit ever could.

You were starting to turn back toward the dressing area. “Wait.” His voice stopped you, softer but no less intense. “Don’t go now,” His gaze flicked up to yours and his smirk returned, unmistakably him. “I wanna keep lookin’.”